A Note to my Gremlin

Dear Gremlin,

It is okay for me to sit here and stare at my notebook. I don’t mind that I don’t know exactly where I want to take the next bit of writing for the book. It has been a few months, after all, since I last worked on writing new material. I can feel the butterflies in my stomach fluttering to its top, pushing their paper-thin wings against my heart until it flutters in unison with them. I know that feeling. It is a darn good sign. It means that I am about to head into something meaningful.

I know I have you on my shoulder. I haven’t forgotten you. You want to edit. You want everything to sound rich and harmonious through all that’s been written up until now. It can wait, dear gremlin. I promise you loads of time to wordsmith, to help me sound consistent and in tune. Let me get the last of the words down and then she’s all yours.



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